Emotionally Complicated
by SpyGirl1969
Summary: An alternate ending to I Am Not Now, Nor Have I Ever Been, A Spy.


Disclaimer: I do not now, nor have I ever owned, Scarecrow and Mrs. King. They belong exclusively to Warner Brothers and Shoot the Moon Productions.

Timeline: Season One: I Am Not Now, Nor Have I Ever Been, A Spy

Rating: PG

Summary: At the end of IANNNHIEBAS (whew!), the tag takes place at the Agency. As often as Lee stopped by Amanda's house, I feel that he would definitely have stopped by after she'd had amnesia and forgotten all about him. This story explores 'what if' he did.

Thanks: To each of my extremely talented and wonderful betas!

* * *

Emotionally Complicated

"Amanda dear, you should be resting," Dotty West gently scolded her daughter as she entered the kitchen. "Leave the rest of the dinner dishes to me, like I said, and go relax!"

Amanda put down the dish towel she'd been using. "Okay, Mother, I will. Thanks." She started to head into the living room, but thought better of it. Turning back to her mother, she said, "You know, it's a bit stuffy in here. I think I'll just go outside for a few minutes and get some fresh air."

Her mother's eyes narrowed as she turned away from the leftovers she'd been busily scraping into a container. "Amanda, dear, are you feeling okay?"

Shrugging, Amanda offered her a weak smile. "I've been better . . . but yeah, I'm okay."

"What's your name? Where do you live? Who am I?" Dotty asked in rapid succession, a lock of blonde hair falling over one eye. She opened her mouth to ask yet more questions but Amanda interrupted.

"Moth-er," she pleaded softly, holding up a hand in defense. She knew if she didn't answer the questions, she'd never get out of the house. She couldn't really blame her mother for worrying. "I'm Amanda King, your daughter. You're Dorothea West, my mother. My sons are Phillip and Jamie. We live at 4247 Maplewood Drive. We're low on peanut butter and marshmallows. Don't worry -- I'm not going to disappear. I just need some air."

Dotty still seemed dubious, but nodded. "Okay, but don't go out of the backyard, Amanda," she replied, her tone earnest.

"Yes, Mother."

Trying to ignore the dull, aching throb in her head, Amanda stepped outside, closed the door behind her, and took a deep breath of cool evening air.

She couldn't help but cringe as she recalled that she'd forgotten about Lee Stetson. That in itself was no big deal; the big deal was what it implied. The doctor had said that the concussion could cause her to forget things that were 'emotionally complicated'. Was Lee Stetson an emotional complication? If he was, she certainly didn't want _him_ knowing that.

And yet she had gone and asked him if they'd ever been involved, and shared with him the doctor's assessment of her amnesia. 'Oh, what must he be thinking?' she asked herself in self-recrimination, feeling her face burn. Of course she knew exactly what he probably thought – that she, like all other females he encountered, had fallen victim to his stunning good looks and witty charm. 'As if his ego needs any more boosting,' she thought snidely.

She would definitely have to smooth it over somehow. Even if she did admittedly harbor a bit of a crush on him – especially given the fact that she used to have fantasies about secret agents – there was no reason at all for _him_ to be aware of it! She was proud of the fact that she could be in his presence and not swoon or flirt; she felt it set her apart from all the other secretaries in the steno pool.

At least she had the rest of the evening to think about it and come up with something reasonable to say before she had to face him again.

"Hi," a deep, familiar voice greeted her.

She jumped and spun around, placing a hand over her pounding heart as the object of her ruminations stepped out of the shadows, a grin on his face. "Oh my gosh!" she exclaimed.

"Don't scream!" A look of near-panic crossed his handsome features as he glanced nervously toward her kitchen window. "Amanda, what's wrong? You do know who I am, don't you?"

Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she nodded. "Of course I know who you are, Lee, but you scared me half to death."

In obvious relief, he moved forward, laying a hand on her arm and squeezing it gently. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to startle you."

"You were afraid I'd forgotten you again?" she questioned, surprised at the alarmed expression she'd seen on his face before she'd assured him that she knew who he was.

He shrugged, fully recovered by now, and said casually, "Not _afraid_, Amanda. I was just worried you were going to scream, and that would've brought your mother out here."

She considered this and debated arguing with him, but decided to drop it. "So . . . What is it?" she questioned, taking a step back so that his hand fell from her elbow.

"What is what?" he asked, frowning.

Amanda sighed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Why're you here?" She raised her eyebrows to emphasize her curiosity. "What is 'it'? An assignment?"

"Oh!" Clearing his throat, he said, "No, no assignment. I just wanted to make sure you were really okay. I mean . . . after a concussion, you can have some residual effects. How're you feeling?"

Amanda smiled, both touched at his concern and amused at his effort to play it down. "I'm all right. A little tired, I guess, and my head's still aching. I think I'll be turning in a bit early tonight."

He seemed to be looking at her closely, and she felt as if she were back at the hospital under the watchful eye of her physicians. "Well, if you still have any signs of a concussion, the worst thing you can do is go to sleep."

"Oh, Lee, I'm not –"

Lee frowned, moving closer to her again. "Hold still," he ordered, cutting her off and taking her face into his hands and tilting it up toward his.

What was he doing? Her heart began to race, her headache all but forgotten at the sensation of his hands on her cheeks.

"What?" she managed to whisper.

"I'm checking your pupils," he explained, his mouth very close to hers. She could feel his breath teasing her lips, causing a shiver to run through her. "When you've had a concussion –" he began.

"Lee," she said, her voice squeaking just a bit, "I've got two little boys. Don't you think I know what a concussion is like?"

He ceased his examination but remained as he was, staring into her eyes. Then, as if realizing their proximity, he let go of her face and stepped back, putting some distance between them. "Yeah, sorry. Of course you do. You, uh . . . don't have any other symptoms? Nausea? Confusion? Blurred vision?"

She shook her head, giving him a slight smile. "No. Besides, Lee, they released me from the hospital. If there were any problem, I'd still be there."

"Yeah, well," he replied, giving her a crooked smile and taking another step back. "Well, anyway, you don't seem to have any symptoms, so . . . "

Amanda looked down at the ground, then back up at Lee. "Uh . . . Lee?"

"Yes?"

She bit her lower lip, not sure how to say what she needed to. "I wanted to . . . Well, the doctor said that when you have amnesia, you can forget things that are . . . emotionally complicated."

"Yeah, I know." He nodded, his hazel eyes wary. "You told me that earlier."

"Well," she said and then paused, wishing she hadn't said anything. "I forgot about you . . . and I forgot about Dean, too." She glanced at the back door, but the kitchen was empty. "I just don't want you to get the wrong idea. Obviously, I forgot about _you _because you represent what I do for a living now, which is definitely emotionally complicated, because I have to lie to my family all the time. The reason I forgot about Dean is that . . . well, he's my boyfriend. Naturally there would be a certain amount of emotional confusion about him – of course it's confusion of a totally different kind."

Lee nodded slowly, a smile of relief spreading across his face. "Yeah. Yeah, I think I understand perfectly. I represent a whole world of lies and deceit and . . ." He paused, frowning again. "That's not very nice, is it?"

"Well," she shrugged, ignoring the pounding of her heart which belied her explanation. "It's the truth. Nothing personal, of course."

"Although," he said, snapping his fingers as if suddenly struck by something. "I'm not surprised you forgot about Dan –"

"_Deeean_, Lee," Amanda said emphatically, shaking her head at his persistence in calling her boyfriend 'Dan'. "His name is Dean."

"That's what I meant," Lee said defensively, running a hand through his hair. "What I was going to say is I'm not surprised you forgot about _him_, because I bet on some subconscious level, you don't think he's right for you. It makes sense. Somehow, I just don't see you two together."

"Didn't we just have this discussion earlier today, Lee?" she asked impatiently. "Do I have to remind you again that you don't even _know_ Dean? You have absolutely no idea what he's like or if he's right for me."

"Okay, okay." He shrugged, once again nonchalant and indifferent. "Anyway, Amanda, don't worry about it. I do understand."

She smiled, relief flooding through her. "Well, good. Now that that's cleared up . . . "

"Yeah," he agreed.

Nodding, she said softly, "Well then. Good night, Lee."

He smiled, backing away. His voice barely more than a whisper, he said, "Yeah. Good night, Amanda. You take care of yourself."

He disappeared into the night, leaving her standing on her back porch, shaking her head. How could she _ever_ have forgotten about Lee Stetson?


End file.
